08/17/2003 - 9:02 AM
Driving home from the gym this morning, I turned left onto the main road leading to my street, and was struck for a moment by how blue the sky seemed to be. As I did a double take, I realized that the sky was not blue, but bluish gray, and that the sun from the east was drawing out the blue in the clouds that were threatening to consume the mountains in a split second if I blinked. So I didn't. I just followed the mountain range as far as I could, and I fell in love with my home all over again, as I tend to do at least once a week.I love all types of weather for one reason or another, whether it fills me with bliss or scares the bejesus out of me. Probably the most scared I've ever been of weather was during my seven months in Miami, where I experienced the effects of a hurricane for the first time. The actual storm skirted the western coast, but the winds and rain were the strongest I've ever seen. Living in a ground floor apartment in a flood plain (you don't think about these things when the leasing agent gives you the tour), I freaked out. Even though the reports all showed that the storm probably wouldn't hit, I hopped in my car at 1am and went to an elementary school nearby, where I slept on the floor in a band rehearsal room. Surprisingly, I slept very well, which is odd for me, since I barely can fall asleep on an overnight plane flight in a (relatively) comfortable seat, much less on a hard tile floor with only a sleeping bag to cushion my body.
A close second to my hurricane experience is my close encounter with a tornado. While living in Greensboro, NC, a series of storms had come through the area over three successive nights. The second night, I left the store I was managing, making sure my staff knew where in the mall to go to be safe, just in case something happened. I found myself speeding home (faster than I normally sped, anyway), and as I got there, I immediately turned on the TV and found out that a tornado had just been spotted about two miles from my apartment. Immediately, I kicked into survival mode, bringing a water pitcher into my walk-in closet, along with my TV, which just barely stretched into the closet. Turned out it was a false alarm, but a little voice in the back of my head was saying, "Do it AGAIN!" This is the same voice that taunts me to ride the Tower of Doom and drop over 200 feet in a matter of seconds. Sick bastard...
I've never done any serious study of meteorology, but I'm constantly fascinated by it. When I call my grandfather at the nursing home back in Syracuse, it never fails that a good 25-50% of the conversation is about weather. Sometimes I'll go to weather.com before I call him, just to see if something unique is going on in the country, and keep him engaged. It makes me sad that he feels like my calls to him are a burden to me, and that he attempts to get me off the phone as quickly as possible so I might go on with my (supposedly) busy day.
Although I have reasons for holding a grudge against the man (his treatment of my uncle's partner, the way he's handled my grandmother's estate), I love him dearly, and I owe him so much for all the things he's done for my family. When my mom divorced my dad, it was just my mom, my brother and I for about eight years, until mom married step dad #1 (a story meant for another series of entries). My grandparents helped out so much, whether it was buying groceries or just taking my brother and I off my mom's hands for a day so she could find some sanity. I always had a dull recognition of what was going on, but it wasn't until I was in my late teens that I realized just HOW much they had done. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Back to the weather...rain is my favorite event, and I've come to appreciate it more here in Denver, where it doesn't rain much at all. The fact that this storm might be rolling in this morning is even more unique, since during the summer, most of our rain comes late afternoon or early evening. The wind is blowing stronger than usual, but not too strong. This is the type of wind that blows up here on the hill I live on during the fall and spring at 2am, keeping me up as it rattles my less-than-adequately insulated window. The storm appears stuck at the edge of the mountains, but it's still beautiful to me. The wind carries that rain scent that you associate with a light shower on a hot day, and as long as I live, that scent will be a comforting old friend, reminding me of the time that I sat on the ledge of our apartment, looking out at the first complete rainbow I'd ever seen. Or the time my brother and I ran through the rain in the courtyard of our apartment complex while my mom sat on the steps of our building, smiling and urging us on. Or the camping trip to the Adirondacks with Dave, where a gentle shower that seemed like just enough to be refreshing turned into a torrential downpour that kept everything soaked for at least 12 hours, but was inspiration for the most passionate night of lovemaking with Dave that I had in nine months of dating.
The combination of water and wilderness puts me in my element. My biggest fantasy is to make love under a waterfall in a secluded area of a forest or jungle. For the time being, I'll settle for taking long showers with Matt, where we clean AND explore each other's bodies, working up a desire that is either released there, or brought to the bedroom for further consideration. Here's a secret desire that I don't feel comfortable sharing with Matt yet...to slide up inside of him in the shower and make love to him with the very warm water cascading over our bodies, helping seal our skin together and make us one. I've promised him I will wait for him when it comes to intercourse, and revealing that desire might make him feel even worse for making me wait. Besides, it fuels an occasional j/0 session when I'm at home by myself, so it still serves its purpose.
Why can't I dive back into previous experiences like this more often? I think it's my tendency to look forward, while not looking back in fear that the past might catch up with me and beat me into submission for something that I've done, or more likely NOT done. There is definitely something to be said for living for today and tomorrow, but the past can definitely be a roadmap for avoiding the minefields and booby traps that have tripped you up previously. I do learn from the mistakes of the past that have been repeated...maybe I'm being too hard on myself. It feels like I'm missing something, though. To remember the pain and disappointment of my father figures as a child is probably the main reason I don't attempt to reminisce, but there are so many good memories that get lost in the process.
One more thing to work on...
What I'm Listening To: Rascal Flatts - I Melt
First Word That Comes To Mind: rain
What I'm Currently Reading:
last
next
archives
cast
random
newest
notes
design
diaryland